Dearly Beloved
by scottie994
Summary: And as he watched his sister walk away with Toshiro, each with an arm wrapped around the other's shoulder, Ichigo couldn't help but worry that more damage than good would come out of this year long visit from the tenth division captain. Who, since she was thirteen, held Karin's heart in the palm of his hand. HitsuKarin; some IchiRuki
1. When the Clouds Start to Break

_**Disclaimer! I do not own Bleach or any other copyrighted material.**_

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i. When the Clouds Start to Break

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The sun didn't shine on Karakura Town that day, shedding no warmth or light; only an overcast sky and light breeze, the gray clouds and faint humidity threatening a downpour. And beneath this dreary hue, stood a mass of people in black, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the fresh, springtime grass.

An aged minister was stationed at the head of the crowd as he drawled on through the usual 'song and dance' of the solemn reunion, tediously articulating the words he'd spoken on several occasions throughout his lifetime, his expression rather blank as he did so. It would've angered her, the lack of remorse the old man was projecting, if only she'd noticed. However, she didn't; the words were distant to her ears, like a nearly inaudible buzzing, and it did little to faze her. In fact, she felt nothing more than the suffocating twist in her chest, and heeded nothing more than the ebony tresses flapping recklessly against her pallid cheeks. But she could do nothing about either; the most she could manage was to stand there, silent and outwardly composed, whilst the emotions and thoughts within her heart and mind roared.

She wouldn't look to her right, at her father, who had his hands clasped before him and his eyes closed, lips trembling ever so slightly as a single tear trickled down his cheek. She wouldn't look to her left, at her older brother, who had his hands clenched in his pockets and hazel eyes open, expression hard with a mix of angst and fury, nor would she meet the repentful violet eyes of the black-haired beauty latched onto his left arm, attempting to comfort the man she claimed to love as he struggled to keep his anger underwraps. She also wouldn't meet the sorrowful eyes of various high school peers standing opposite her, who had gathered once again, one year after graduation. And lastly, she wouldn't meet the contrasting eyes of those from the Urahara Shoten, who were uncharacteristically, and appropriately, cheerless.

No, she would keep her dim obsidian eyes on the casket before her, focus set solely on the polished light brown wood and the bouquet of lilies set in the center, displaying the spitting image of one collected, but grieving, young girl. All the while straining to keep the tears stinging her eyes at bay; she wouldn't let her emotions get the best of her. Not here. Not in front of all these people. They were in mourning as well, everyone on their own level and in their own way. And she'd abide her own way, which was to go on soundlessly, with heartache threatening to explode the vital organ, and remain poised.

Even as the casket was lowered into the six foot deep grave and her heart followed, engulfing itself in the darkest pits of her being, she gave no sign of turmoil.

To her left, her brother took a fistful of soil in one calloused hand, solemnly holding this fist of dirt over the open grave and letting the grains gradually seep through his fingers, hitting the wood below with a deafening sound.

To her right, her father would do the same.

Then, it was her turn; she fought her overwhelming sentiment as she followed suit with the remnants of her family, staring wistfully at the beautiful white flowers whilst they slowly disappeared beneath the abundance of dirt reluctantly poured upon them, and then, like a boomerang, it hit her.

She was gone.

Isshin Kurosaki regarded his daughter as she stood, unmoving, beside the grave whilst it was hastily filled in by the groundskeeper, and, if it were possible, his own heart ached just a little more. She'd barely said two words that weren't necessary to say those past three days, since _it_ happened, and now, she looked as if she were waiting for something. For someone. For _anything_. He wanted to hold her, whisper sentiments that were true and utter promises he'd do his best to keep, yet, he didn't. Against his better judgement, he would keep his worry to himself, for now, and simply plant a single loving kiss on her forehead, and leave her be.

Ichigo Kurosaki regarded his younger sister briefly, feeling the same protective and caring urges as his father, but would dispel them as well, for the time being. Instead, he would subject her narrow shoulder to a doting squeeze with his hand, and retreat from the grave without a word, his throat too dry to speak, anyway.

Rukia Kuchiki followed suit, bringing the girl into a momentary, half-armed embrace and casting her the caring sisterly smile she'd adopted over the years, then would wordlessly accompany her fiance and several others to the Kurosaki household.

And Karin Kurosaki would just stay, frozen in place, staring blankly at the now filled in grave. An hour would pass. Then two hours. The night sky would clear up only so much as to let a streak of moonlight leak through, illuminating the cemetery below. And eventually, once she'd counted two hours and forty-five minutes, an arm wrapped around her shoulders, and her petite form was pulled against a taller, masculine figure. She didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him, not even needing to look up and meet those teal eyes of his to confirm that it was, indeed, him. She just knew, 'cause his presence immediately struck her composure, sending it tumbling down in a pitiful manner, and all her buried emotions rose to the surface, spilling out like a milk jug tipped on it's side.

And she wouldn't care, 'cause it was just him. The only person in their opposing dimensions she'd ever dare show her true self to.

He pressed his soft lips to her forehead, cool against her suddenly fevered skin. "Sorry I'm late," he repented with utmost sincerity, the sound almost foreign to her ears. And finally, she broke.

Toshiro Hitsugaya would hold her as she cried into his chest, quickly soaking through the fabric of his black button-up and abruptly filling the stagnant atmosphere with muffled sobs, whilst he just stroked a hand through her loose, frazzled hair; keeping a firm and loving hold on her small trembling frame. He'd curse himself for being late, silently questioning how long she'd waited, resisting the urge to scold her for staying out late at night by herself, and instead, remain quiet, providing warmth and sanctuary, like his job as her best friend entailed.

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**A/N: **Hope you all enjoyed the intro-chapter! Not too much to say right now other than the rest of this story is spurring in my mind as I write this note, so rest assured it will be multi-chaptered and possibly quite long (perhaps in the 15-20 chapter range), and also, even if I don't update for several weeks (which is highly likely, as my muse is quite fickle - hence all my in-progress stories), I will _definitely _complete this.

Anyways, you know what to do - review/follow/favourite, all that good stuff that makes me grin like an idiot (critiques are appreciated too!).


	2. Beware the Sympathy

ii. Beware the Sympathy

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One would think she was trying to squeeze the undead life out of him, or that she was attempting to melt him with her relentless tears of agony. Her chest felt tight, her throat was dry, and her sobs refused to stop. They hadn't shifted in position, still frozen in place beside the newest grave in town, and with each passing second, she only became more upset; she felt no relief. She'd denied herself true reaction for too long, now four nights and three days of suppressed feelings and tears were being unleashed, and she felt sick.

Yet, she still attempted to fight it. "I should get back.." Karin said between mild sniffles, having ceased her death grip on his person in order to wipe her eyes - only serving to bring about more waterworks. "Dad's probably worried about me..."

"I can send him a text," Toshiro offered dryly.

She shook her head slightly, lips pulling up into a weak smile. "No.. I should make an appearance, at least." She'd failed miserably to stop her tears, but she couldn't deny the truth of her statement; she'd have to face them sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. "Any chance you can call a cab?"

Not bothering to refute her blatantly forged wishes, he draped one arm around her shoulders and began leading her off the grounds, clicking the keys of his cellphone as she told him the number.

* * *

Several people had yet to flee the wake, leaving the Kurosaki household rather crowded. And amongst this abundant crowd sat the close family friends - the Urahara Shoten.

Tessai had taken to a cross-legged position on the floor beside the couch, tea in hand. Urahara had discarded his blazer and tie, donned his green and white striped hat once more, and now sat silently at the end of the couch, a cup of questionable liquid in hand. Next to him was Yoruichi, who had a comforting arm around Jinta's shoulders, just like Ururu had on the other side of him, both women doing their best to console the red-haired teen, despite not saying a word.

What exactly was one supposed to say to the very boy Yuzu had been on her way to see the night she passed?; it was better not to try, they resolved.

Meanwhile, Isshin was going around the house, addressing the neighbours, friends, and a few people he had no memory of ever meeting, carrying the weight of a host on top of a grieving father frighteningly well - with the help of several gulps of water and many trips to the bathroom, just to stand on the other side of the door; just for a quick breather.

And they would all, quite effortlessly, ignore the gruff and angry voice of the first-born Kurosaki child coming from outside.

"God dammit!" Ichigo fumed, hazel eyes hard as ever with impatience and fury. "Where the fuck is she?!"

Rukia sighed. "Ichigo, relax-'

"_'Relax'?!_" he echoed, expression incredulous, and finally stopped pacing cracks into the concrete of the sidewalk to glare at her. "How the hell can I _'relax'_?! It's been over_ three_ hours!"

"I'm sure she's fine-'

"How can you be sure?" he snapped indignantly, anger unmitigated despite the lowering of his voice. "Dammit," he breathed, running a calloused hand through his hair. "I knew we shouldn't have left her there."

"Hey," Rukia pushed off the fence, violet eyes endearing as she approached him, "stop beating yourself up over everything. Karin can take care of herself."

Shaking his head, he recoiled from her embrace, untrusting to the close proximity with so many conflicting emotions bubbling up inside. Pacing, he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, unwillingly falling victim to ideations of the several possible ways his stubborn sister could be taken from him.

"She could've been taken by a Hollow," he voiced suddenly, anger rippling in his chest once more. "Just like my mother and Yuzu.." Abruptly, he kicked the side of the house, the rage sent through his leg leaving a dent. "At least they're being fucking consistent!"

"Ichigo-'

"What?!"

Rivaling his glare, Rukia wordlessly gestured in the direction past his shoulder, and with broadened eyes of instant understanding, he whipped around, "Finally! Where have you-' his chideful greeting hitched once he registered the unexpected attendance of one Toshiro Hitsugaya.

"Well," he started again, acrimony twisting his previous irritation. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence."

Karin was prompt to scold, expression weary and tone pleading, "Ichigo, please, don't start."

"I'm just welcoming the guy to the party," Ichigo vouched sarcastically, raising his arms in a mock-hug gesture. "Of course," he set his glare on Toshiro once again, "only a death in the family would bring you around."

Hitsugaya's eyes hardened. "Watch it, Kurosaki."

Ignoring him, Ichigo cast his sister a rather foreboding look. "Seriously, Karin?" he jeered. "You're still doing this?"

"Ichigo," Rukia warned.

"What?" he refuted arrogantly. "Don't pretend you're not thinking the same thing; we all know what an unreliable bastard he is."

Despite her lack of audacity, Karin scoffed. "Like you're one to talk."

There was an overwhelming eruption of acrimony when their eyes met, rivaling each other's glares with a passion, and Ichigo couldn't help the bitter smirk that played his lips. "Well," he began loftily, hazel eyes meeting teal on level ground - piercing, "At least _I_ wasn't four hours late to the funeral."

"I got delayed," Toshiro bit out defensively.

Ichigo chuckled coldly. "What? Ran out of hair gel?"

"Actually," a proud smirk painted the young captain's features, "I was awaiting the approval from the Head Captain to allow me to stay in Karakura for the following year." Averting his gaze from Ichigo's suddenly shocked expression, Toshiro met the dark eyes of an equally dumbstruck Karin, his own softening to a doting degree. "If you'll have me, that is."

She practically choked on the flutter in her chest. "Are you serious?" He merely nodded in response, reassurance curling at the corner of his mouth, and her heart lifted ever so slightly. Not even sparing a moment for it to all set in, she closed the distance, burrowing into the crook of his neck as she embracing him with weak arms.

Her words were muffled, but clear. "Thank you."

Holding her close and affectionately, Toshiro sent Ichigo a look akin to that of victory - receiving the deadliest of glares in return. Reiatsu flaring, Ichigo grunted indignantly and turned on his heel, proceeding back to the house with clenched fists and a rather calm - in regards to Toshiro's announcement - wife-to-be in tow.

No one but Rukia paid any mind to the hot-headed brother's bent out of shape demeanor, having been used to it for quite some time and, given the situation, expected it. The soon-after appearance of Karin and Toshiro, however, drew quite a bit of attention. No one had truly expected her to attend - nor did any, with the exception of the shinigami-related people, know of the white-haired man beside her - and like a flock of sentimental vultures, a rather abundant crowd of remaining funeral-goers rallied up around the young girl.

Putting a firm and upholding hand on Karin's waist, Toshiro began leading her through the sea of supposed condolences, which, despite their efforts, only served to heighten her distress. Apparently, it did take a genius to notice that she was overwhelmed, as he seemed to be the only one to notice the discomfort in her eyes and the furious thud of her heart, and it wasn't long before he had picked up the pace, boldly brushing past numerous people as he led her to the kitchen.

Promptly pouring herself a glass of water, Karin leaned against the counter in false stability and downed the cup of saviour-esque liquid in two gulps, feeling only the slightest relief as it streamed down her dry throat.

"Like a bunch of damn paparazzi," she remarked a moment later, the faintest scowl twisting her pallid features.

"That's one way of putting it," he conceded flatly, mirroring her visage.

Resting her elbows on the countertop, Karin buried her face in her hands, annoyance weaving through her affliction. "I swear, if one more person tells me 'she's in a better place', I'm going to lose my mind."

She had to bite back the moan of pleasure he incited as he rubbed the juncture between her neck and shoulder, temporarily soothing her anguish. "No one will hold it against you if you leave early," he said a moment later, retracting his hand.

Karin rubbed her eyes in contemplation; she surely didn't want to stick around. Not when there was a very comfortable and welcoming bed waiting for her upstairs, just waiting for her to crawl in and attempt to fall asleep for the fourth night in a row. Something that, with Toshiro's presence, she was certain she'd accomplish.

Straightening up a moment later, she cleared her throat with concurrence. "Let's go, then."

* * *

It was becoming a bit overwhelming - all these damn people in his house, refusing to leave of their own accord. Normally, Isshin would be delighted by all the company, eager to entertain and mingle. But not today, and not anytime soon. However, being the cordial man he was known to be, none of vexation shone through his welcoming demeanor, ultimately condemning him to the much unwanted company of, what he estimated, half the town.

He had half a mind to send his angry son after them; they surely wouldn't oppose Ichigo, not in this state of mind and degree of wrath.

It was tempting, but he discarded the thought. Instead, he strained to keep his tone at a neutral octave and continued his discourse about the crowded house. He greeted his late daughter's friends and teachers, thanked them for their sympathy and god knows what else as they surely haven't done anything other than annoy him to the brink of a second death, while they just eat up his mournful speech and praise with bromide condolences and offers of their help and a year's worth of meals - to which he kindly declines.

And it's when he thinks he's on the fringe of combusting that a familiar mop of alabaster hair comes into view, giving him a clear escape.

"If you'll excuse me," Isshin practically muttered to a man he'd just met tonight, who'd claimed to live around the block, and proceeded towards his ivory-haired saviour. "Toshiro!" he greeted with real enthuse, drawing the young man's immediate attention.

"Taicho," his former third seat returned, tone bland as always.

Isshin chuckled faintly. "It's been twenty-five years, Toshiro. I'm just Isshin Kurosaki now."

"I wouldn't feel right calling you by anything else." His gaze drifted briefly to where Karin was falling victim to another speech of solace, then, with a gathering-bearings like exhale, he met the tired eyes of his former captain once more. "Listen, I'm-'

"I know," the older man assured, placing a hand on his shoulder with an air of gratitude. "And I got the news from Kyoraku," he stole a glance at his daughter, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of her, barely holding a stance and forcing a kind smile, much like he'd been doing for the better part of the day. Squeezing the shorter man's shoulder, Isshin cast Toshiro a firm and appreciative look, "Thank you."

A nod was all he received in return, teal eyes reflecting the words not needed to be voiced, and with that, Isshin went on to distract their neighbour from her attempts to force a month's worth of bento boxes on his daughter.

Karin felt a twinge of relief as her father led the persistent lady away from her, and, adamant to avoid any more 'condolence' speeches, she immediately grabbed her best friend's hand and resumed leading him through the house, up the stairs, and down the hallway to her old bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she pressed her back against the wood and tilted her chin down, exhaling an exasperated sigh. She came-to a moment later when the room before her was dimly illuminated, and her gaze soon fell upon Toshiro, taking in his surroundings disinterestedly whilst he unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt, revealing the mere beginnings of that sculpted torso she'd long since adored.

Clearing her throat and averting her eyes, Karin ventured further into the room, set on changing out of her rather itchy dress.

"We'll go back to my place tomorrow," she said as she took out a pair of sweatpants and pulled them up underneath her skirt. "I have to, um.." the lump in her throat swelled, "pack Yuzu's room up.."

Ears ringing, she didn't heed whether he actually spoke or just inclined his head, and briskly, she slipped a baggy t-shirt over her head, untied and unzipped her dress beneath the confines, and happily discarded the dreaded black ensemble. She payed no mind to his intent scrutiny, feigning ignorance to his aura of concern, and sluggishly crawled onto her bed, an appeased sigh escaping her once her head met the soft pillow. It felt like an eternity had passed since she'd last slept.

Despite her fast approaching comatose, she raised a tired arm and waved him over, her hand falling on the vacant left side of the mattress with a low _thud_, calling him closer. He didn't hesitate to comply, nor did she waste any time coiling her slender limbs around him, the skip of his heart soundless as she snuggled up close against him and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, sending a shaky breath along his collarbone and inciting a pink tinge to paint his cheeks.

The intimate setting was bittersweet; he felt somewhat immoral, feeling so much joy amongst so much grief, but it was inevitable. Even with all the sadness and distress she was dealing with, her presence, as it had always been to him, was captivatingly beautiful. And it never failed to evoke a spur of conflicting emotions.

He wasn't selfish enough to think he was the only one, nor was he apathetic enough to dwell on his own tribulations amidst the current and more serious predicament. He was skilled in keeping his personal issues at bay, and he would exploit such dexterity with little to no effort, as his full focus was on her and sole goal was to make her better.

No matter how long it took.

.

.

.

Isshin was clearly reluctant to release his daughter the following morning, practically squeezing her unconscious as they stood just outside the threshold of the front door. The fact that she'd actually yielded to his embrace, rather than roundhouse kicking him several yards away, was clear verification of how out-of-sync she was with normalcy, and he didn't want to let her go.

However, she was clearly eager to leave, prying herself free not three minutes later. "We gotta get going," Karin announced, rather averse at the notion of returning to her apartment, but keen to escape the two-story building of nostalgia and fatherly concern.

"Right," Isshin concurred, arms crossing over his chest. "Well, don't be a stranger," he joked, though his tone lacked his usual humor. "You two are welcome to stay here as often as you like."

Both Toshiro and Karin nodded, the latter's lips pulling up into a faint smile. "Alright, see you later."

Isshin merely inclined his head, silent as he lingered on the doorstep, watching the young pair as they set out down the pathway, and he let his mouth curl into a faint smile of his own, nothing but confidence that his longtime friend would abate his daughter's heartache and mend her soul, as the young shinigami had always played a part akin to a safe haven for Karin, and surely wouldn't fall short now.

Meanwhile, a certain orange-haired Kurosaki had a different outlook.

"Oi! Karin, wait up!" Ichigo called, bolting past his father and down the sidewalk towards his sister, who'd reflexively halted at his voice, despite the unmitigated, albeit lessened, enmity she felt towards her brother at the current time. Composing himself before her, he met her expectant gleam with atoning eyes, "I'm sorry about last night," he began, almost completely sincere. "I was just worried about you."

Sighing, "You don't need to worry about me," she asserted promptly. "I can take care of myself."

He smirked. "So I've been told." His gaze drifted to Toshiro, briefly regarding the young captain as he stood several yards away, fiddling with his phone. "So, Shorty's really sticking around this time, huh?"

"So I've been told," Karin confirmed dryly. "And he's almost as tall as you, if you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, yeah, I noticed," Ichigo rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But, I'm still taller." In spite of herself, she chuckled. Low, but warmly. "Well, if you're willing to give him his ten thousandth chance, I guess I'll just have to live with it."

"Thanks for the blessing," she quipped.

Her sarcasm gave him hope. "But," Although, he'd still play out his role of a protective brother, "if he hurts you again, I swear I'll break his face."

"_And_ were back." Karin sighed. "Just relax for once, Ichi-nii. Everything's gonna be fine." He merely grunted, resolve unmitigated. "Besides, he's never hurt me," she vouched, tone lacking veracity.

"Right.." he acceded, tone lacking belief.

There was a pregnant pause between them; their splintered bond was palpable in the silence. The notion of an embrace crossed both minds, yet, neither complied. "Okay," Karin eventually spoke, rocking back on her heel as she recoiled from their close proximity. "I'll see you later.."

He nodded. "See you later."

His chest swelled with all that went unsaid as he minded her hasty retreat, self-loathe and guilt resurfacing at an agonizing rate. And as he watched his sister walk away with Toshiro, each with an arm wrapped around the other's shoulder, Ichigo couldn't help but worry that more damage than good would come out of this year long visit from the tenth division captain. Who, since she was thirteen, held Karin's heart in the palm of his hand.

.

.


	3. Paint the Silence

iii. Paint the Silence

* * *

The walk to her downtown apartment was relatively short, all fifteen minutes spent in silence and filled with periodic glances at odd times, the quietude unawkward, yet, not particularly comfortable. One could blame it on the sun's abrupt decision to shine, irritating her already dry and stinging eyes and making her feel less than pleasant. And of course, his common manner of _usually_ staying quiet unless the situation called for it. However, that particular quirk of his was more than welcomed by her, as her reason for wanting to leave her father's house so early was to get _away_ from such idle conversation; she could always count on Toshiro for being a silent and walking sanctuary.

So naturally, while they stood on the fourth floor of the six story complex, loitering just outside her door as she blankly stared at the wooden barricade, he held up in that regard and didn't say a word, merely watching her in the peripheral. And eventually, despite her reluctance to do so, she pulled a small set of keys from her jeans' pocket and unlocked the door, inwardly sighing as she crossed the threshold.

"Welcome to my home," Karin said with dry enthusiasm, lazily hanging her keys on a nearby hook.

Closing the door behind him, Toshiro began taking in his surroundings. There wasn't really much to take in, however, as the apartment itself was rather small. It served well for a college student's home, though; simply structured, quite cozy, and essentially clean, save for a little clutter of textbooks on the kitchen table and few dirty dishes in the sink - he had a sound feeling that was all Karin, her sister having been quite the little neat freak.

Swiftly passing through the space between the kitchen and living room areas, he placed the pile of boxes they'd picked up on the way down in the small passage leading to the fire-escape and leaned against the doorframe of which Karin just entered through, his cerulean eyes adjusting to the reddish-orange painted room as he watched her roam about.

Paying no mind to his scrutiny, Karin let her fingertips trail absentmindedly along the black fabric dressing the bed and her duffle bag hit the hardwood floor unceremoniously, feet sluggishly guiding her to the window, where she pulled back the charcoal drapes and let the room become soaked in almost blinding sunlight.

She turned to him then, sporting an expectant look. "So... what do you think?"

"I think," he began, lips morphing into that heartwarming, albeit faint, smile of his as he approached her, "I'm gonna like it here."

Her mouth twitched to display a brief smile. "I hope so."

Almost predictably, his hand tucked the few escaped tresses from her ponytail behind her ear and his lips placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, spurring a wonderfully cliched skip of her heart. It was another quirk of his, one she couldn't quite remember when he'd adopted and that he played at the most sudden and odd times, never failing to heighten her fondness; she almost hated him for it.

"I just hope your couch is as comfortable as it looks," he said a moment later, casually leaning against the wooden wardrobe.

"It is," she assured simply, gracefully plopping down on the edge of her bed. "But, you'll be sleeping in here with me."

Within the second of her statement, his brow furrowed over brightened eyes, making for a contradictorily cute expression. "Are you sure?" he begged confirmation.

She nodded, a feeble smirk playing her lips. "My bed is more than big enough," she reasoned with a shrug. "Besides, I can't have you sleeping on a couch for a whole year; it'll fuck up your back and wear out my cushions."

A light chuckle escaped him. "So long as you don't mind sharing a bed with me."

"I never minded before," she argued subtly.

"You were younger back then," he argued back.

Another shrug played her shoulders. "Only by a few years," she considered. "Not like much has changed."

Refraining, for the sake of not sounding perverse, from commenting how her previously boyish figure, albeit still petite, was now nicely curved and quite appealing to him, Toshiro merely smirked, "...fair enough."

Though, he continued to study her, minding the arch of her frame and contortion of her feature, which seemed to gradually twist in sorrow as her eyes drifted to the left, regarding the wide-open entryway of the opposing bedroom. The light of her gaze disappeared as it lingered, the increasing ache in her chest palpable. But before he could do or say anything, she stood from the bed and made her way out of the room.

He came up behind her while she stood almost frozen in place between the two doorframes, hand grasping the opposing frame in a thoughtful manner. And, as if reading her mind - "You don't have to deal with this today," Toshiro broke the silence.

Karin heaved an inattentive sigh. "If I don't do it today, it won't get done," she reasoned distantly. Then, grabbing a box from the hallway, she ventured further into the room, of which he found contrasted completely from the one they'd just been in; much like how the twins' personalities and styles had always differed, the walls were painted a nice yellow and the furniture was more brightly dressed, white curtains left open. It definitely had Yuzu all over it. And he decided, although this room was nice, he preferred the dark beauty of Karin's room; much like the girl herself.

Who, at the moment - he suddenly noted - had abandoned her previously adamant task and now stood on the far side of the room, head bowed as she stared at a picture frame she now held in her grasp.

Karin felt her eyes begin to sting with new tears once again as she committed the happy faces that belonged to Yuzu and herself on graduation night to memory, the wish that she'd ignored the photo all together instantly befalling her; damn her sister and her photos. Which now only served to cause a terribly unoriginal display of wistful nostalgia in her wake, rather than laughable reminiscence in their golden age.

She knew full well that death wasn't truly the _end_. But even so, her sister was no longer _there_. She was inanimate, lost, and so far away; she didn't even want to think about where her sister had ended up. And yet, it was all she thought about, her mind constantly dwelling on the uncertainty of the afterlife and entertaining the painstaking possibilities of where Yuzu may be now; she'd become partially knowledgeable of the not so perfect ways of Seireitei and Rukongai, through some probing on her part and reluctant yielding on Toshiro-slash-Ichigo's part, and in result, had become nearly timid in regard.

Just to think of her sister, up there all alone...

"How about you let me do this?" Toshiro suddenly snapped her from her trance, offering to take over the very thing she had to keep her mind off things, if only for a little while.

"Er.." she cleared her throat, shaking her head ever so slightly, "no, I can't ask you to-'

"I'm here for a reason," he asserted, eyes both firm and gentle as they lock with hers. "And you didn't ask, I did; and it was rhetorical anyway."

Knowing better than to argue and too tired to attempt, she let her shoulders slump defeatedly. "You're sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all," he assured coolly, promptly ushering her out of the room. "Is there anything you want saved?"

Halting in the doorway, Karin gave the room a last once over, then shook her head. "No, everything can go," she said blandly, and with a mere nod of reply from Toshiro, she returned to her room. She wasted no time opening the bottom drawer of her nightstand and practically shoving the picture frame inside, shutting the drawer once more with no intention of opening it again. Then, with an 'attempting recomposure' run of a hand through her hair, she grabbed a bundle of clean clothes from her wardrobe and proceeded to take a shower.

She stopped for a brief look at Toshiro, whose apparent fascination with a snow globe had her cracking a smile; shinigami were quite comparable to aliens, she mused. Always getting distracted with wonder by the simplest things. And with every step she made to the bathroom, the hope that the next three-hundred and fifty-four days would be the longest days of her life was all that filled her mind.

However, that was soon pushed aside and replaced with all the thoughts she'd hoped to repel, mental capacity flickering with various notions and memories as she stood within the strong surge of hot water exuding from the shower head. She preferred to think the tears that quickly began streaming down her cheeks were merely the shower water - the false thought comforting. Even as her knees buckled without warning and her body curled into a feeble position on the floor of the tub, she feigned ignorance to the reality that she was crying yet again; she preferred to pretend she was being strong, rather than admit she was being weak.

The former was her speciality, after all.

.

.

.

Toshiro was in the process of folding the last bed sheet when he caught sight of Karin, in rather scant attire and long damp hair cascading down her back, enter her room once again and flop ungracefully onto her bed, face first. Naturally, he was drawn in with yet another pique of concern, so he promptly placed the now folded linen in the box with the others and left the now barren bedroom filled with numerous boxes of Yuzu's belongings, closing the door behind him in a grief and ceremonious manner.

"Everything's packed," he announced a moment later, hands submerged in his pockets once more as he entered the room.

Karin rolled onto her side. "That was quick," she remarked blandly, rubbing her noticeably red eyes tiredly.

"There wasn't too much to pack.." he muttered a little too offhandedly, despite his incentive of being comforting. A lapse of silence befell them at the tactless atmosphere, in which she stared at the wall while he gazed at her feature, the former too dazed to notice his glazed infatuation.

However, he soon captured her attention as he sat down on the bed and cast her that grin she almost despises it's so charming. "So," he started, resolving to try only once at livening her up. "What do you say we go out to eat?"

She unwittingly hummed as she mulled it over for a mere moment, then shook her head ever so slightly and shifted onto her back. "I'm not hungry."

The grumble that echoed from her person said otherwise. "Really..." Leaning down, Toshiro propped himself up on one elbow and placed his ear to her stomach. "What's that?" he mocked airily, inciting the roll of her dark eyes. "You haven't been fed in _four days._.?"

"Oh, fuck off," she muttered, shoving him aside with a lazy hand.

Chuckling lightly, he shifted onto his back so his head rested on her abdomen. "Promise to eat later?" he pressed once more.

"Promise," she replied, her tone flimsy. But before he could call her fallacy, she began combing her fingers through his hair, instantly lulling him into silent serenity. It was what they'd always excelled at; comfortable quietude. Laying somewhat together yet apart, the buzzing of her ceiling fan and the low rumblings of hunger mixing in with the beating of her heart being the only sounds breaking the silence - it was tranquility at its finest. And it's something he'll enjoy and exploit on several occasions this next year; that he'll adapt to.

He almost didn't want to think about the after effect; the withdrawal.

"I'm gonna need to go shopping," he declared suddenly, breaking the lull before he fell into (premature) dejection of his own. "These clothes are getting a bit worn... and as nice as it was for your father to lend me a couple of his hawaiian shirts, I think I'll stick with solid colours."

"Solid colours do look best on you," Karin agreed, her voice more amiable than before. "Not many stores are open today since its Sunday, but I have your old clothes in my dresser to hold you over till tomorrow."

"You do?" he pressed, eyes drifting to hers.

She nodded. "You always leave your 'Living World clothing' with me, remember?"

"Oh, right," he said rather awkwardly; truthfully, it'd been so long since his last visit he'd forgotten they existed. "I just figured you'd thrown them out by now."

"Nah.." she denied softly. "'Can't guarantee they'll still fit you though; you seem to have grown in the past ten months."

"Really?" His eyes betrayed a tinge of excitement as they met hers once more, as growing up for Toshiro Hitsugaya was always a rare and exciting thing.

"A little bit." His excitement dimmed. "Don't worry," she continued, lips quirking ever so slightly. "As long as you stay taller than me, you're good."

"Well, that's not going to be difficult," he muttered. ".._.midget_." An immediate wince broke his feature as she pulled on a lock of his hair.

However, out of his peripheral, he saw her smile increase; it was still faint, but genuine and fairly heartwarming. "Guess what?" he spoke a moment later.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

There it was, that flutter in her chest. "I love you too."

* * *

She hadn't eaten. She hadn't left the apartment; hell, she barely even left the bed unless it was of dire necessity. Toshiro attempted numerous times that week to get her to eat, leave the bed, leave the apartment, but was more consistent in failure than success. He'd asked her to accompany him when he went to get his new wardrobe, but only received a mumbled 'no thanks' before she rolled onto her other side and fell asleep again. Not that he couldn't manage to shop on his own, as he had - what he's been told to be - a good sense of style. But without Karin there to ward off the hordes of teenage girls, who, for reasons he didn't quite understand, followed him around everywhere he went like a pack of stray puppies, he was nearly kidnapped.

He and Isshin had attempted a team up when the latter came to collect his late daughter's things - but that had also been a failure. And had collectively heightened Toshiro's feelings of incompetence. Especially when it came to her casual and consistent refusals to do something as simple as eating, save for when she'd steal a mouthful or two of his ramen.

He'd asked her later in the week to go grocery shopping with him, partially due to his utter lack of ability to navigate around such a place, but mostly out of hope that a trip past McDonalds or going through the aisles of the store and smelling the food would pique her appetite once again. And in response to that, she'd simply broken her staring match with page 440 of her biology textbook to utter yet another 'no thanks', explaining that she had to study, then returned to her blank 'studying' state, adding to his substantial tally of failures.

There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him around, but even so, her somewhat constant disregard of his presence and efforts were beginning to inflict the notion that he _shouldn't_ be there. That perhaps he was the wrong person to be helping her through this; being the fairly apathetic death god he was. Sure, he was her best friend and cared for her dearly, but he was no grief counsellor nor was he experienced in comforting those in mourning; he could barely do such a thing for himself.

But then, night would come. The inevitable time of day when she'd make both the space between them and any feeling of inadequacy nonexistent, ultimately dispelling the notion of being anywhere else from his mind and bringing that overwhelming happiness to the surface, creating the overall sense of being needed. And as the night's wore on, she adapted to the new reality that, when she woke up, he would still be there, compelling her to loosen the secure grip she had on his person and simply settle into his inviting embrace; her slender frame coiling snugly around his. While Toshiro, caught within this intimate cuddle and becoming quite fond of it, was constantly battling his carnal urges, of which were painstakingly adamant.

Then, morning would come; sunrise would seep in through the curtains and rouse her from serene slumber, arresting her to distant dejection once more. And Toshiro would resume his quest of bringing her back to life.

* * *

Obsidian depths fixed on the door before her as if tracing each grain of wood, Karin let her hand linger on the doorknob, hesitance piquing; just like she had those past eight days, she loitered outside her sister's bedroom in a stew of reluctance and anxiety.

_'Stop being such a wimp,'_ she told herself adamantly, eliciting a slow and calming exhale. This would bring her closure - she assumed, anway. And maybe, by entering the room once more, she would finally break the pitiful cycle of rushing past the door as if a ferocious beast would grab her whenever she left her bedroom.

However, once she actually came to stand in the center of the vacant yellow room, she longed to rewind. It was too pale, too empty, too _stagnant_. The atmosphere was no longer bright and jovial - just dim and sad. And it was all too easy to forget anyone had even occupied it; and if it weren't for one obtrusive aspect, she would have. But she didn't. 'cause there was one thing still lingering as a reminder, keeping her stilled on the spot with tears welling up in her eyes.

It was _her_ scent..

.

.

.

_"What about this?"_

_Looking up from her book for the fourth time in the past hour, Karin examined her sister's outfit. It had gone from a sundress, to jeans and a t-shirt, to a skirt and a long sleeved shirt, and now, Yuzu was clad in a pink knee length dress and a short black cardigan. And with an exasperated sigh: "It's perfect; just like the last three times."_

_Yuzu elicited a hmph at her twin's blatant disinterest, but given that she had to leave in fifteen minutes, finally agreed and sat down on the bed. Taking her makeup mirror in one hand and mascara in the other, she began applying it to her lashes._

_"Have you heard from Toshiro lately?" she prompted a minute later._

_"No." Karin replied curtly. "And no, I don't care," she asserted before Yuzu could comment. "That bastard missed my eighteenth birthday; he'll be lucky if I don't beat him to a bloody pulp when I see him."_

_"I'm sure he didn't intend to miss it." Karin rolled her eyes, lazily flipping the page of her textbook. "You know better than anyone how busy he is."_

_"Oh yes, I'm painfully aware." Tossing her book to the side, Karin leaned back on her hands and cast her twin a teasing gleam. "And speaking of bastards; remind me again why you're going out with Jinta?"_

_Sighing, "Jinta is not a 'bastard'," Yuzu defended. "And I'm going out with him because he asked me. And as you know, I've liked him for years."_

_"Can't imagine why," Karin muttered. Then, catching Yuzu's rare scowl, lamented: "Sorry."_

_Her sister's bright smile instantly returned and she soon set down her mascara to pick up lipstick. "But," the dark-haired twin continued, "I am prepared to give you a bailout call." Yuzu sighed. "I'm serious; just send me a text when he isn't looking and I'll call you with something like..um.." Karin appeared to be temporarily stumped, most likely due to the fact that Jinta was well affiliated with their family already, so the usual song 'n' dance wouldn't work. "Eh," she shrugged, heaving a warm chuckle, "I'll come up with something good."_

_Merely shaking her head, Yuzu got to her feet once more and smoothed out her dress, giving herself another once over in the mirror. Then, she turned to her sister, gleaming with anticipation. "I gotta go."_

_A smile played Karin's lips. "Well look at you, going on a date. I mean, you could do so much better, but still, it's so exciting."_

_Yuzu giggled. "And if it goes well, we'll be able to double date with you and Toshiro."_

_Cheeks tinging, "Me and Toshiro don't date!" Karin refuted rapidly._

_"Right," Yuzu rolled her eyes. "'Cause you only go out to eat and see movies whenever he visits and say you love each other all the time." Scowling at the undeniable truth, Karin simply huffed. And with one last giggle, Yuzu made her way to the door. "I'll see you later."_

_"Yeah, whatever. I'll be waiting by the phone to give you that bailout."_

_"Not gonna need it!" Yuzu called back confidently, slipping her shoes on and grabbing her purse. Then, she sprinted back for a quick, "Love you."_

_Karin chuckled. "Love you too," she relented. "Have fun." Yuzu merely flashed a grin before disappearing once more, the front door of their shared apartment closing soon after. And Karin remained sitting on her twin's bed, flipping half-interestedly through the content of her upcoming exam._

_It was twenty minutes later when Jinta called her, asking if Yuzu had left yet. It was after five straight-to-voicemail calls to Yuzu's cellphone that she got a call from a distressed Ichigo, saying that he hadn't made it in time and that the Hollow had already- It was at the mention of a Hollow she abandoned the call and bolted from the apartment, only stopping to put her shoes on at a stumbling haste, steadfast towards her childhood home._

_And it was after she sprinted the distance to her father's clinic that she was met with her sister's broken, lifeless body, lying on the hospital bed._

_And everything suddenly spun into sickening darkness_..

.

.

.

"Karin?"

Blinking from her reverie, she found herself back in the empty pale yellow room, tears trickling slowly down her cheeks.

"It's so silent," she remarked dryly, straining not to meet his concerned cerulean gaze; she couldn't handle his attention right now. Giving the room one last scan, she turned on her heel and brushed past him. "I'm gonna have a nap."

She could feel his eyes linger on her back as she essentially dragged her feet across the hall, slipped out of her jeans, and crawled into bed, submerging herself into the blankets and pillows in an attempt to muffle her sobs and ward off any incentive for him to comfort her. However, Toshiro was too perceptive for his own good, and despite her efforts, he was cradling her in his arms within the minute. Why she even bothered anymore, neither were completely sure.

Though, she had a feeling it was for the mere sake of being free.

* * *

He announced the next day that he had a surprise. And in spite of her reluctance, she got up, threw on some clothes, and followed him across the hall, expression slightly skeptical. Then, when he lead her through the wide open entryway of the opposing bedroom, her face fell with shock and confusion.

"What's all this?" Karin questioned with a pique of interest, minding the plastic sheet covering the hardwood floor and the array of paint buckets - the colours blue, purple, green, pink, and black scattered about.

"Project of sorts," he explained simply, closing the door behind him. "You did want to be a professional painter."

"I was twelve," she reasoned bluntly, meeting his eyes. "And I'm pretty sure painting a room five different colours is against housing rules."

"When have you ever followed the rules?" Toshiro argued artfully, a persuasive smirk playing his lips as he passed her a paint brush. "C'mon, I'll let you start."

Biting her lip on reflex, Karin took the wooden handle into her own hand, almost sluggishly. The gesture was mostly to humor her friend, as her full incentive was to return to her bed and ignore the outside world another day. And also, because she couldn't very well find reason to refuse, nor could she deny that handsomely eloquent look of his.

Although, that didn't keep her from feeling rather ridiculous as she approached the far wall, brush in one hand, paint bucket handle in the other; but that feeling was soon overshadowed when, having dunked it into the thick blue liquid, she slapped the brush to the pale yellow surface without so much as a thought in regards to where she was going with it. And when bright sapphire met dull lemon, the silliness of it all, albeit still present, was abated by a sense of release.

It was mild, the uplift of her senses as she trailed the paint ridden bristles along the wall, but it was enough to have her fighting a smile; so this is how easy it was… Just slap some pretty colours on the borders of melancholy and feel an instant quell of pain - she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry; it seemed too easy to be ethical. And yet, she laughed anyway. Taking the bucket in both hands and propelling it's indigo contents at the wall in one swift lunge, Karin let a light giggle escape her, eyes brightening the slightest gleeful hue.

Then, turning her gaze from the splattered silhouette not a moment later, she sought a different source of brilliant teal.

"What?" she pressed, meeting his eyes with a quirk of her brow. "Just gonna stand there and watch?"

"That was the initial plan," Toshiro replied offhandedly, yet took the bait without further delay. Briskly taking the nearest bucket, the young captain unleashed his fun side and thrust a good abundance of green paint at the wall, letting some of his own tribulations go with it. As, amongst other things, the silence had been getting to him too; the dull amplitude of lively atmosphere, not only in this room but in the whole apartment, was enough to unnerve anyone. And with a slight curl of his lips, he turned back to an equally smiling Karin.

"Who knew you were such a talented painter, Toshiro," she quipped, semblance of her true character breaking that dejected mask and inciting an almost triumphant smirk to meet his lips.

"Well, what can I say," he shrugged, features gleaming a justified amount of smugness. "I am a prodigy; it's only natural."

Karin snorted quietly. "Right," she rolled her eyes, smile unmitigated as she approached him. "Well, don't stop now; there's way too much yellow in this room for my liking." Then, as if for emphasis, she grabbed the bucket right from his hands and lunged even more green paint at the wall, somewhat aggressively.

"I'll second that," he muttered, casually striving for the purple paint can. Truthfully, he hated the colour yellow. And with that notion, Toshiro continued the joint effort of vandalizing the empty room, suppressed vigor weaving through the acrylic fumes as they did so.

It wasn't long before they'd covered the walls with blotches and splatters of contrasting pigments, having stained the white curtains and created unintentionally eye-pleasing abstract art in their wake. Karin had taken it upon herself to empty the black paint bucket, fervently splashing the dark colorant about the colourful walls and adding a considerable balance to the visuality, as well as a substantial stench to the not so fresh aroma; a smile playing her lips all the while.

And then, it was over; all the paint cans were emptied and every spot of yellow was covered, and there was nothing left to do other than mind the mess they made with a dwindling visage of glee.

Chest heaving faintly as her heart rate returned to normal, Karin stood in the center of the room once again, onyx eyes darting thoughtlessly about the vivid confines. Potent arms wrapped around her shoulders then, pointed chin resting casually and comfortably atop her head as teal eyes joined her in silent examination, collectively inciting a flutter to oppose her heart's efforts of receding to a normal pace.

"Let's go out to eat," Toshiro suggested a minute later, breaking the lull.

Her brow creased. "Out?" she repeated skeptically, turning in his embrace to face him. "But," she briefly regarded their appearances, "we're covered in paint."

"So," he shrugged, smirking down at her. "I think it adds character." Before she could protest, he took her hand and led her to the door. "And if we linger in these paint fumes any longer, we're going to pass out," he added coolly, swiftly turning the doorknob. Meanwhile, giving no thought to protesting, Karin gave the room one last regard, and it would seem Toshiro's unspoken motive had been fulfilled; it was no longer silent.

.

.

.

It'd been rather fleeting in comparison to the previous week, but he'd gotten a genuine laugh out of her - or at least created the setting that stimulated such amiable sounds. They'd only crossed the street, but he'd gotten her to leave the apartment. She'd only ordered a kiddy-sized meal, but she was finally eating; and by the look on her face, he was certain she'd be getting seconds. They may be covered head to toe in paint, it'll probably take several days to get the pink out of his hair from when she decided he 'needed some colour', and it may be quite a while longer before she's completely back to 'normal'. But none of that truly fazed him, as he had finally done something right.

Feelings of incompetence: _considerably decreased._

_._

_._


	4. Whispers, Tears, and Everything Between

iv. Whispers, Tears, and Everything Between

* * *

"Are you sure you're ready?"

At that, Karin met his turquoise gaze with her own confident eyes. "Yes, I'm sure," she vouched evenly. "I've been studying like crazy for the past few weeks, and I have to take this exam to make it to my second year." Then, her expression dropped ever so slightly; they've both minded the abundance of days she's missed, the thought fleeting her mentality and making her think of her sister. Yet, she didn't voice this.

"I have to go back sometime," she murmured instead, summoning an adamant facade.

"Alright," Toshiro conceded, casting her a heartwarming and encouraging look. "I'll be here when you get out."

Her brow quirked. "You're going to wait out here for three hours?"

"I have nothing better to do," he reasoned, shrugging noncommittally.

"'suppose you have a point," she said rather cutely, lips curling for the briefest of moments as she retreated, waving once. "Okay… I'll see you on the other side."

Smirking, Toshiro inclined his head. "Good luck."

Without further ado, Karin turned on her heel completely and proceeded towards the glass double-doors. She unwittingly and sillily held her breath as she trekked through the nearly deserted corridors on her way to the designated examination room, whilst she tried to ignore the whispers and curious looks she received from unnamed passersby.

Not that this was new; she couldn't go anywhere as of late without being subjected to 'the whispers'. They ranged from talking about her late sister, a subject that was gradually being overlooked due to more recent deaths and other events, to openly wondering how she was handling herself, and moreover, gossiping about the fair-haired male that accompanied her almost everywhere she went; 'cause to anyone who didn't know Karin personally - which would be almost everyone - the relationship between herself and Toshiro would seem quite sudden and rather intimate, ultimately drawing much curiosity from nosy outsiders.

Much like her elderly neighbours, who not two weeks ago had voiced rather worriedly that she was going to the 'dark side' (to which Karin barely stifled a laugh) following her sisters death. As, according to their irrationally concerned selves, Toshiro was one of those 'no good punks' of the new generation (Karin soundly assumed it was his constant refrain from smiling at anyone but her and his rather 'punk'-esque choice of appearance), deeming him untrustworthy. Not truly understanding how any of that reflected on her grieving process, Karin merely attempted - the operative word being _tried_ - to convince the older couple that she had not gone to the 'dark side', as they so amusingly put it, and that Toshiro was a far cry from what they presumed. Although, that had proved difficult due to their elderly-like skepticism and the fact that Toshiro had subjected them to his hardest glare throughout the whole ordeal, ultimately inciting her to give up within the first five minutes and drag him into the apartment for a good scolding on proper 'human' etiquette.

Though, she could simply chalk it all up to her not caring what other's thought; she soundly figured that such kindred dismissals would continue until the citizens of Karakura finally left her alone. And, given the attention she'd attracted just by walking down the hallways of her school and the unnerving abundance of stares she'd drawn upon entering the auditorium, she realized, sadly, it would be a little while longer until that happened.

Under the brief scrutiny, Karin chewed the inside of her cheek and proceeded towards the empty seat in the third row, projecting that of composure.

"Ah, Miss Kurosaki," her professor address kindly. "Glad you could join us." Karin merely nodded in return, and almost resumed her stride with confidence until - "And we're all so sorry for your loss."

Force field cracking, she forced an appreciative smile, then quickened her pace ever so slightly as to be seated at her desk in a matter of seconds. The collective scrutiny receded then, she noted gladly, and at the verification from their professor, she followed suit with everyone in beginning the exam.

She nibbled at her bottom lip thoughtfully as she read over the first page of questions, writing confident answers in as she went, whilst, every so often, her train of thought would without warning flicker to Yuzu. And as that became more adamant and consistent, she found the black print on the white document before her gradually begin to blur. Her mind drew a blank when she tried to focus her attention on the matter at hand, refusing to heed anything other than that night just three weeks prior, and before she could even register the tears welling up in her eyes, two drops of salty water stained her page, smudging the (most likely) newly printed ink.

She fell into quiet disbelief at how pitiful she was being as tears continued to exude, and in her thoughtless trance, as if striving to up her pathetic scale, she bolted from her chair and out of the room fast enough to send loose documents askew. Her legs guided her back down the hallway and out of those double doors at a steadfast speed, bringing her out into the untimely bright outdoors in a matter of two minutes.

And sure enough, when her dark bleary gaze minded the environment, there he was, lounging on a nearby bench with his phone in hand, dutifully clicking away on the keys; she felt almost nostalgic as she rendered the familiar sight. Then, as if feeling her presence, which seemed to be a gift of his, Toshiro stood somewhat tall once more and slipped his phone into his jeans' pocket, casting her a dazzling and expectant look as he did so.

Attempting to wipe her tears away in the most inconspicuous manner she could manage, Karin approached him, almost sheepishly. "I think my exam was printed in Spanish," she said as evenly as possible. But the look he gave her was outwardly unconvinced, and within the minute, she huffed, "fuck I'm pathetic, aren't I?" An empty laugh escaped her. "I mean, I can't even write a fucking exam!"

Carelessly and indignantly, her sneaker clad foot met the metal bench in one swift swing. "Ow!" she cursed instantly, nearly tumbling over as she strived to nurse her now aching foot. While a partially amused Toshiro briskly made to place his hands on her shoulders and balance her, eyes firmly gentle as they locked with hers.

"You're not pathetic," he asserted, tone all authoritative despite it's softness. And as she merely pouted in response, he just smirked. "Don't worry about the exam, I'll work my charms on your professor to get you a retest."

In spite of her vexations, a softer expression twisted her features, lips curling ever so slightly. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

Taking the indirect compliment with an unmitigated smirk, Toshiro wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Come on," he began, ushering her off campus with him, "I'll buy you a scoop of that gross ice-cream you like."

"Mint chocolate chip isn't gross," she retorted firmly. "It's delicious."

"And yet, I remain unconvinced."

.

.


	5. Promises Made in Somber Sacrament

v. Promises Made in Somber Sacrament

* * *

_He dropped everything he was doing. Not that he was doing much of anything, but the disruption of a Hollow wasn't something to put off for the sake of dirty dishes._

_He quickly popped the gikongai out of that ugly stuffed animal and into his mouth, in spite of how gross the act was, instantly emerging in shinigami form. And with a threatening utterance of 'If you do anything remotely stupid in my body, I'll crush you,' to Kon, he leapt out of his three-story high window and onto the adjacent apartment complex's roof. The Hollow was on the outskirts of the downtown area, he noted expertly, and briskly proceeded to shunpo along the rooftops to such destination._

_It was as he got closer that he began to sense another reiatsu; it was familiar, albeit faint, and within the minute of just barely detecting it, he realized who's it was, inciting a much quicker pace. The orangette could easily feel the reiatsu dying to a nonexistent level, doubtlessly due it's beneficiary's dwindling life-force, and he could only grunt indignantly as he pushed himself to an impossibly fast speed._

_Seeing the beast in the near-distance, he readied his zanpakuto. 'One good slice down the middle will end it and everything will be fine,' he assures himself with naivety, striving forward; leaping off the last building before the clearing, he lunged forward. And sure enough, with one swift cut, the Hollow was split in two, shrieking deafeningly as it began to disperse into the air. Meanwhile, it's executioner was landing nimbly on his feet and proceeding without so much as a second of delay towards the small body sprawled on the grass, heart beating faster and faster in his chest with every passing second._

_That was, until he dropped to his knees beside the girl and it sank to an almost deadbeat, the back of his eyes stinging as he brought her limp form into his arms._

_As if on reflex, he gave a light slap to her graying cheek. "Hey," his voice cracked instantly, the bags under his eyes quickly moistening. "Come on." He repeated his action with a little more aggression, the honey-blonde locks falling back from her pallid face as a result. "Come on, don't do this…" he trailed off from his pathetic pleading, yet continued the equally pitiable attempts to stimulate life, refusing to heed her colourless flesh and utter lack of breath._

_"Ichigo?" But of course, he could only slap her cheeks and check her pulse for so long before reality caught up to him. The familiar tenderness in her voice was nothing short of heartbreaking, inciting a suffocating pang in his chest, and with broad hazel eyes, full of guilt, he regarded his greeter._

_His throat went dry. "Yuzu.." a practical croak spoke her name, few tears welling over and trickling slowly along the chiselled lines of his face as she stared back at him. Her expression was twisted in confusion, not because she didn't know what her brother was or what he did when he was in that form, but rather, because she didn't understand why she was standing next to him as he held her; she temporarily forgot her knowledge of such things, as it was all too surreal. And it was only when Ichigo lowered his sister's lifeless body to the ground, his own slumping in defeated position, that it all connected, and he felt his heart descend to an all new low as he watched her eyes glisten with tears of recognition._

_"Well," she began, lips quirking sadly as her bleary eyes lingered on her empty vessel of a body. "...darn."_

_In spite of the situation, he yielded to a smirk. "Still too innocent to swear, even in the afterlife."_

_Though, his teasing visage quickly disappeared once he regarded her chain of fate, the two links protruding from her chest echoing the reminder of what his job entailed. And Yuzu knew this as well. "Do what you have to do, Ichi-nii," she said, her tone even and faintly spunky, almost as if channeling her twin's dauntless attitude._

_His irises quaked with apprehension. "I'm so sorry-'_

_"Don't be," she asserted. "It's alright." A scoff of self-loathe filled the air, amber eyes closing tightly. And in turn, Yuzu knelt down before her brother, lackluster lips set in that all too gentle smile of hers. "Soul Society is a wonderful place, right?" He merely nodded, despite his knowledge of it's many faults. "See? You have nothing to be upset about. Besides, you're going to be living there with Rukia soon, so we'll see each other around."_

_"You might not remember me," he muttered in response, considering the idea of her ending up in Rukongai with no memories of her human life; it's always a possibility._

_Smile unmitigated, she patted his spiky orange-hair, creating an air of nostalgia. "How could I possibly forget you, Ichi-nii?" Her attempts to ease his guilt were ineffective, but he couldn't help the fleeting smile that spread at her warmth and in her presence that reminded him so much of their mother, which collectively served to make him feel like her was losing her twice over._

_Without further delay, as he wasn't about to risk his little sister becoming a Hollow just because he didn't want to let go, he grasped the hilt of his zanpakuto and swung it over his shoulder so the skull hovered just before her forehead. "I'll find you," he declared confidently, despite the voice in his head that opposed him. "I promise."_

_And she had confidence in him, as always. Such reflected in her bright facet. "I love you, Ichi-nii."_

_Knowing full well that if he hugged her, he wouldn't let go, Ichigo reluctantly performed the konso. "I love you too."_

* * *

Lounging on her preferred bench in the shade, Karin basked in the nice June weather and worked to surpass her best-friend's _Tetris_ highscore via his 'just for work' mobile phone, waiting patiently. And she'd just barely beat the young captain's impeccable score before the apparently and frequently bored man rejoined her, one hand shoved in his pocket as the other snatched the cellphone from her hands.

"Will you stop messing with my score?" he scolded flatly, snapping the phone shut as to reject the saving of her efforts and slipping it into his pocket.

She pouted, arms folding over her chest. "I'll have you know I worked hard to beat that damn score of yours. And now look what you've done; simply deleted it without so much as a thought. Have you no shame?"

"No," was his short reply, beckoning her to follow him down the cement path with a simple stride towards the street. "And by the way," he started a moment later, throwing her a glance over his pointed nose, "you forgot to mention that your professor is a_ man_."

"Oops…" She cast him a sheepish smile. "Does that mean your charms failed?"

"Of course not," Toshiro denied offhandedly. "I just had to change my game up, and it was rather inconvenient on such short notice."

Karin chuckled lightly, the sound so rare as of late it almost took him off guard. "So I got the retest?" she presumed.

"Yeah," he frowned slightly, "but it has to be next Thursday." Semblance of glee disappearing at the reminder of what that particular day was, she mirrored his frown. "Sorry; he claimed there was no other day."

"It's fine," she assured candidly. "I'm sure my mom will understand." Then, with another quirk of her lips, she lightly drove her fist into his bicep in a playful manner. "Thanks for exploiting yourself for me," she voiced cutely, providing the reason for her gesture.

Toshiro grinned. "Anytime," he replied, summoning all charm within those two syllables and making her face flush just the faintest pigment. "Now, let's hurry up," he urged, casually wrapping an arm around her shoulders as if drawing them into close proximity _wouldn't_ slow their pace towards the pre-chosen restaurant. "I'm absolutely famished."

Karin sighed. "Can't you just say you're hungry?"

.

.

.

They'd lingered at the diner just long enough for their cheeseburgers to settle before venturing back to the apartment with the intention of watching a movie. However, when Karin proceeded to her bedroom to change, such incentives, as well as the smile Toshiro had incited over dinner, diminished as if they'd never existed.

"Ichigo?" she accosted quizzically, brow creasing as she approached him. "What're you doing here?" She nearly halted her step then, obsidian eyes widening a fraction in apprehension when they met his dim hazel stare, such obscure depths accentuated by very prominent dark circles and pale skin. His overwhelming air of distress had her own temporarily omitted vexation surfacing once more, making for a less than jovial atmosphere to fill her small apartment. And with a pique of seriousness, Karin sat down on the coffee table before him, missing the silent and knowing exchange between Toshiro and Rukia as she did so.

"Ichigo," she started again, "what happened?"

His irises quaked with the vast guilt and sorrow he harbored way too frequently, and after staring at her with that uncharacteristically blank look for nearly a minute longer, he returned his head to his hands, as if he couldn't stand to look at her another second. Then, he began muttering unjustified apologies at an incessant pace.

Karin's brow creased further. "Sorry for what?"

Ceasing his ramblings soon after, he grasped the back of his neck with calloused hands. "I couldn't find her…" he spoke almost evenly. "I searched for weeks, in every district of Rukongai, but… I couldn't find her."

Suddenly, it clicked. "Ichigo…" she uttered, though couldn't find the following words. Her heart was sinking further than she thought was possible, and she wasn't quite sure how to react; she hadn't been aware of his quest, and now, finding out that he'd been unsuccessful, she was practically auto-pilot.

"She's just… _gone_." Self-loathe heightening, he fisted his hair in his hands once more. "I promised I'd find her…" he disclosed through gritted teeth. "And I _failed_. I mean, what if I didn't look hard enough and I missed her… and now she thinks I forgot… or that I just _gave up…_" His words soon became aimless mutterings once again, incoherent to those around him. And at that, Karin snapped from her idle-self, gaze instantly drifting to regard Rukia, who had similar dark circles under her violet eyes and an aura of exhaustion about her. Summoning a particular facet, Karin conveyed the message with just a look, to which the other woman merely nodded and silently ushered Toshiro out of the apartment with her.

The young ravenette then proceeded to her kitchen, where she briefly scoured a lower cabinet and returned to her brother's side within the minute, a bottle of whiskey in hand. She knew it was a bad coping mechanism, but at that moment, it was all she could think of. And she couldn't deny her own urge to indulge.

"Here," she said, nudging his arm with the glass vial.

Furrowing his brow, Ichigo took the bottle from her. "Where'd you get this?" he inquired, eyeing the hard liquor label suspiciously.

"Matsumoto," she offered simply, assuming a casual cross-legged position beside him on the sofa. "Apparently that's a proper present to give a seventeen year-old on her birthday."

He smirked almost genuinely. "Only Rangiku would think that…" Uncorking the bottle, he made to down a good long swig.

"Hey!" she snapped fifteen seconds later, snatching the bottle from him. "Don't drink it all, you hog!" He merely smirked at her irrational antic, reclining into the comfy crimson cushions. And eventually, after she'd consumed a good swig herself - "So, you couldn't find her."

"Nope."

"Bummer."

Scowling, he shot her a look. "Must you be so painfully cavalier?"

"It's better than breaking down and crying for the hundredth time this month," she vouched blandly, passing him the bottle once more. He took it with a heavy heart, the remorse he felt reflected in her dark eyes as they meet his for a fleeting moment, chest's aching simultaneously. It's an unspoken conviction, for them to revert the subject and actually have a real conversation, something they hadn't indulged for quite some time; they may have a splintered bond, but they were still siblings, grieving ones at that, and they were still capable of sharing a bottle of bitterly appealing elixir and speaking to one another without the long since sparked cynicism.

"So," Karin prompted, "your search party has Soul Society thinking you've gone mad?"

Ichigo shrugged. "Something like that…" he muttered, the subject still sore. "They just think it'd be best to postpone my 'moving in' till a later date." A scowl twisted his features then. "Which means I'll have to stay with Dad, considering my lease is up, and who knows how long that'll be."

"Living with Dad isn't that bad." He rolled his eyes. "I mean, if you look past all his annoying antics and irritating wake up calls."

"What's left?"

Karin shared in his chuckle, considering his rebuttal, "... nothing much, I suppose."

"Well, it has nothing to do with that, anyway," he admitted, a woebegone aura befalling him once more. "We haven't really been on the best of terms since… well, you know."

"You're still blaming him?" she raised a brow, all knowing.

"No, I don't _blame him_." Saying it outloud sounded less truthful than he anticipated. "I just…" he heaved an exasperated sigh, "I just can't get over the fact that he wasn't _there_; he'd been closer than I was and could've stopped it before I got there."

"So in other words, you blame him."

Ichigo rolled his eyes loftily. "Believe whatever," he retorted flatly. "And while we're on the subject of living arrangements; how's living with captain 'egotistical jackass'?"

"I'm not living with Byakuya." He chuckled heartily. "As for living with _Toshiro_, it's actually really great." She grinned genuinely, nearly colouring. "Who wouldn't wanna live with their best friend?"

"I don't wanna live with Renji…" Ichigo muttered in response, then met her eyes. "So you're happy with him here?" She merely nodded, much to his disappointment. "I mean, you don't need me to beat him up or anything?" he pressed once more, tone hopeful.

Karin simply shook her head. "No, you don't need to beat him up." He frowned, inciting a sigh from his sister. "I really wish you guys would get along."

He scoffed quietly. "Don't hold your breath."

A scowl twisted her delectable features. "You have no reason to act so hostile towards him." He cast her a dubious look, several retorts bubbling up in his throat. "Fine," she surrendered not a second later, too tired to hear such reasoning. "Believe whatever."

"I will," he assured bluntly, swallowing his pent up words with another swig of the throat-burning liquid.

Rolling her eyes in return, Karin settled further into the sofa cushions. "Alright, change of subject," she declared thoughtfully, snagging the liquor vial from his possession once more. "Let's talk about…" she cast him a grin then, "your wedding plans."

Not unlike his sister, Ichigo grinned at the mere notion of marrying Rukia, and would let his grief be abated temporarily as he entertained her gesture. "Well…"

.

.

.

Sighing in mild disapproval, Toshiro took the now empty liquor bottle from Karin's lethargic grasp. "Finally drank Matsumoto's present from last year, huh…" he observed blandly, shaking his head ever so slightly as he placed the glass vial on the coffee table.

"Whiskey, huh?" Rukia chuckled lightly, sitting down on the arm of the sofa. "Why didn't I think of that," she pondered to herself, raking a gentle hand through her fiance's spiky locks as a doting smile met her lips. "Could've saved a lot of sleepless nights this past month…"

"I wouldn't recommend making a habit out of it," Toshiro muttered. "Lest they turn into the Kyoraku and Matsumoto."

Rukia smirked, silently agreeing. "Do you think Karin would mind if we stay here tonight?" she questioned, looking to Toshiro as he swiftly brought said girl into his arms. "I don't want to wake him up just yet."

The question was silly on so many levels he almost chuckled. "I doubt she'll mind," he assured, teal eyes drifting to the young girl's bewitching feature as she nuzzled into his chest, slender arms linking lazily about his neck.

"Suppose that was a rather stupid question," Rukia voiced his previous notion with a light chuckle, her coherence not at it's finest due to insomnia.

Casting him a nod, she bid goodnight and went about settling her husband-to-be into a sleeping position, while Toshiro merely inclined his head, wordlessly proceeding to the bedroom. He briskly discarded her jeans before bringing the blanket up around her comatose form, both amusement and affection twisting his features as he minded the way she snuggled into the comforts of her bed, hoarse voice grumbling inebriated and incoherent notions into her pillow. He soon took his place beside her, sidled up to her backside in an upright position as he reclined his head on the wooden headboard, succumbing to thoughtful quietude as he let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and absentmindedly combed through her long ashy tresses with gentle fingers.

And when she swivelled around to snuggle into his lap not five minutes later, evoking all sorts of emotions and thoughts, he found himself gazing down at her; reminiscing.

.

.

.

_"I never did ask how you two met," Rukia prompted, absentmindedly trailing her thumb along the rim of her cup as she sat across from him in the cafe booth, both of them waiting out an appropriate leisure until it was time to return to their loved ones. "I mean, the kind of relationship you guys have must've started off pretty epic."_

_Toshiro merely smirked, eyes reflecting amiable recollection as they drifted out the window. "She saved my life…"_

* * *

**A/N: **Well, I hope you all liked this chapter! I know, I know, it's angsty, but that's pretty much the whole story. I spent almost three hours working on the first scene alone, so I hope that Ichigo and his parting with Yuzu was fairly plausible (I hardly ever write Ichigo-central scenes, so I'm not quite sure how well I channel him). And of course, sibling dynamics and banter are enjoyable to write, despite the afflictions and implied bitterness... Anyway, let me know what you think! I love when my phone goes off with alerts for reviews/favourites/follows, so don't hesitate! (Again, critique is welcomed!)

Teaser: Coming next is (roughly) 3500+ words of relief from the angst as I divulge how the Toshiro and Karin of this story met in the first of three flashback chapters! ~Yay!~ It's not exactly 'epic', as Rukia presumed, but it's quite befitting, if I do say so myself...


	6. Blast From The Past: Seven Years Ago

vi. Blast From The Past: Seven Years Ago

* * *

Groaning in pain, the fair-haired male roused from his unintended slumber with an immediate scowl, teal-eyed vision squinting beneath the fluorescent lights.

"Finally!" He nearly jumped at the sudden exclamation, heart practically popping out of his chest in alarm. And he would have jumped, it it weren't for his inability to move. "How do you feel?" the female voice pressed. Though he ignorantly dismissed her, a grimace twisting his stately features as he attempted to swallow - only serving to make his throat more dry, and ultimately leaving him less than stimulated to speak.

"Can you hear me?" the woman persisted nonetheless. Yet, received little more than a grunt as the boy flexed his fingers, inciting jolts of livelihood up his lethargic arms. "Or can you just not talk?" the woman continued, as if unfazed by his blatant disregard.

Fed up with her inquiries, "I can talk just fine, thank you," he finally acknowledged her, rather curtly. Then, he pressed his hands firmly on the mattress and slowly rose to a sitting position, wincing all the while and unable to stifle yet another groan of dismay.

"You're gonna open up your wounds if you do that," the unnamed woman scolded flatly.

Cerulean eyes opened fully under furrowed silver brows. "Wounds…?" And upon looking down, he realized that he was, indeed, wounded. To be more specific, he was half-naked with four gaping claw marks across his torso. Which appeared to be in the process of treatment, given the half-completed stitches and bandaging.

Right, he'd been dispatched to Karakura Town in order to take out a Menos Grande, and had, apparently, gotten wounded in the process of killing it; his memory was still a bit foggy, but he had a sound feeling that was an accurate synopsis. Sighing heavily, he wallowed in self-pity, feeling his pride gradually deteriorate; he, a captain of the Gotei Thirteen, nearly killed in battle with a _Menos Grande_… how pathetic.

"Here," the woman interrupted his thoughts soon after, her surprisingly small pale hand thrusting a glass of water into his view.

"Er…" he hesitated, as if depicting the situation for any sort of foul play. "Thanks." He yielded, taking a large gulp of scratch-throat-abating liquid as he regarded the glass' presenter, who was not so much an older woman but instead a young girl, sporting almost-shoulder length black hair and dark concerned eyes, the latter far too serious for someone of her age.

"Where am I?" he inquired a moment later, casting a wary glance about the rather pristine room.

"My family's clinic," she replied simply.

He merely nodded in reply, taking another sip of water. Then nearly choked on his saviour-esque elixir at an overdue realization. "Wait," he met her eyes again, his teal depths broadened slightly in disbelief. "You can see me?"

"Of course not," she replied, tone dripping with sarcasm and arms folding over her chest. "'cause I always have ongoing conversations with thin air." Rolling her eyes at his unwavered expression of incredulity, she heaved a sigh, "yes, I can see you… _moron._"

He scowled with ineffective warning. Then, upon feeling another reiatsu present and deducing it immediately to be hers, went on to ask: "Who are you?"

"The person who saved your life," she replied proudly.

A light scoff escaped him, "I doubt a tiny human girl like_ you_ saved _my_ life." And despite his gibe being an almost murmur, it was clear enough to incite a swift, and rather severe, whack upside his unsuspecting head.

He promptly glared at her. "_Fine_," he admitted congruence, nursing his aching skull. Though, he remained skeptical, as always. "How'd I get here then?"

"I dragged you here from the park," she explained smugly. "And you know, for a small guy, you sure are heavy-'

"I am not _small_," he asserted coldly, then gave her a quick once over. "And I wouldn't be talking if I were you, midget."

Obsidian depths darkened fiercely, and the girl's arm rose once again. Though, he easily deflected it, catching it mid-swing. And after a minutal glare, he let go of her wrist, rising from the bed.

She minded his sudden uprise with suspicion. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving," he replied flatly, ignoring her glower with an arrogant jerk of his chin and a slightly staggering stride as he stumbled past her. "As fun as this little encounter has been, I have things to attend to-'

"You're not going anywhere," she stated firmly, blocking his path.

He gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Now, get back to bed." Pushing lightly on his chest, she sent him stumbling backwards. "I'm not done fixing you up, and you can barely walk as it is, so you need to rest."

Catching himself on the bed railing, he glared at her. "Did you not hear what I just said? I have _important_ matters-'

"Like what?" she quipped, scoffing. "You have to pick up more bleach and hair gel?"

His brow creased in a brief spell of befuddlement; then he put two and two together - "I do not bleach my hair!"

"Sure you don't…" she conceded with blatant disbelief. "But you can't deny that you use hair gel. I mean, seriously, your hair defies the laws of gravity." Then, her lips quirked teasingly. "In the cutest way."

The boy's eyes widened yet another fraction of incredulity. "Did you just call me _'cute'?_" he pressed for authenticity, as if the term had never reached his ears before - of which she highly doubted, as he was practically the embodiment of the word.

"Mhm," she nodded amiably. "In that 'arrogant jerk makes me wanna beat you to a bloody pulp' way."

That bold reasoning had struck a rather challenging cord in him. "Is that so…" he smirked, folding his arms over his chest. "Then I find you cute as well, in that 'I wanna throw your bratty ass out the window' way."

She chuckled, no less amused. "Touche."

"Now," her expression became serious once more, "will you please sit down and let me complete my treatment? You're starting to bleed again." Unable to deny her sincerity, he simply sighed and reluctantly sat down on the bed, leaning back on his hands to allow her full access to his wounds.

But before she could resume her treatment, a third presence entered the room. "Ah, Karin!" the man accosted airily. "Darling, what are you…"

The male voice trailed off almost instantly as it's owner's eyes met those of brilliant teal, while Karin, oblivious to the exchange before her, scratched her head sheepishly. "Hey Dad… um, this might sound silly, but-'

"You're treating an invisible patient?" her father offered goofily. "Now Karin, you know the rules." Her brows furrowed, clearly asking 'what rules?'. "Proper attire my dear girl! It is unprofessional to wear your dirty soccer uniform while performing the job of a nurse!"

Karin exhaled audible irritation. "Well_ I'm sorry_ that changing my clothes wasn't a first priority."

"You're forgiven. Now, go change." Gentle but forceful, her father ushered her out of the clinic before she could protest. "Go on now!" Karin grumbled something akin to a profanity under her breath in response, but did as she was told. And once she was out of earshot, her father proceeded back to where the dumbstruck 'invisible' patient sat.

"Hitsugaya," he greeted casually. "Long time no see."

"Er…" Clearing his throat, Hitsugaya dutifully brought on his cool demeanor. "Yeah, it's been awhile, Captain Shiba."

"It's Kurosaki now," Isshin corrected, expression unusually serious. "Listen, Toshiro… my kids don't know about my past, not even Ichigo, and-'

"Your secret's safe with me," Toshiro assured coolly.

Isshin's grin returned instantly. "Lovely!" he exclaimed, clasping his hand together. Then he regarded the younger man's current condition. "And you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to recuperate."

The young captain inclined his head. "Thank you."

"But, I will ask that you pull up your hakamas; this is my eleven year-old daughter you're hanging out with." Toshiro's face flushed a deep pink as he noticed that his pants were, indeed, riding quite low. While Isshin merely chuckled, having missed his former third seat and all the opportunities the young man left open for teasing.

"And keep them up until she's at least sixteen," the unorthodox father added a little too bluntly, proceeding to the exit. But before a wide-eyed Toshiro could make a fumbled reply, Isshin held a silencing digit to his lips. "Shh… she's back."

And sure enough, his ex-captain's presence was soon replaced by his new acquaintance, clad in what he minded as her nurse uniform.

"Well, don't you look adorable."

She shot him a fierce scowl. "Shut up."

Toshiro chuckled lightly, inconspicuously fulfilling Isshin's request. "I'm serious," he continued subtly. "And the hat really is a nice addition."

"Do you want me to put poison in your wounds?" Karin questioned irritably as she came up beside him, picking the nearby cloth up off the table. And as she pressed it against his abdomen, his expression instantly twisted to that of prominent pain.

"Not so mighty after all," she muttered with a chuckle.

His scowl deepened. "I'm sorry; do you have inch deep cuts across _your_ stomach?"

A small hiss escaped him as she pressed the wet cloth to said cuts once again, features straining adamantly to repress the pain and agitation from surfacing. "How'd you get these, anyway?" she asked a minute later, re-soaking the cloth and going onto the cut just above his waistline.

"It comes with the job," he answered as vaguely as possible. "Sometimes…"

"You were fighting those big monsters with the masks, weren't you?" she assumed knowingly, then soon ceased her movements to meet his surprised expression.

"You can see Hollows too?" She merely nodded, storing the identification 'Hollow' in her memory. And Toshiro felt his interest pique, "...huh." _'She is the younger sister of Kurosaki and Isshin's daughter,_' he mused with a quirk of his lips. "Interesting…"

A slightly smug grin painted her face, but she said nothing more as she continued her treatment, leaving Toshiro to intently watch her surprisingly gentle hands go about cleaning, stitching, and bandaging his wounds, an appreciative gleam unwittingly etching onto his feature. Although he knew that going back to Soul Society and seeing Unohana would fix him up much faster, he couldn't deny the added pride of going about it the traditional way. And he also couldn't help but enjoy the constant banter between himself and this girl; she was definitely entertaining.

"So, normally I'd suggest at least a week and a half of bed rest," she began, setting aside her things once she'd finished. "But, considering how eager you seem to get back to your 'duties', I'll let you go tomorrow morning."

Toshiro nodded appreciatively. "Well, thank you, for everything… I'll take the night to rest, as you say. But I do have to leave in the morning, whether I feel well or not."

"Agreed," she said, rather grudgingly, then met his dazzling eyes. "Are you hungry? I'm sure my sister saved me a plate of two of dinner, I could go heat some up for you." Then added with a grin: "Yuzu's cooking is to die for."

He smirked faintly as he pondered whether or not she realized he was already dead - deeming such conversation more befitting for another time. "I am hungry," he admitted almost hesitantly. "But I don't want to impose on you anymore than I already have."

"Nonsense." Waving a nonchalant hand, she proceeded to the exit. "I'll be back soon." And in her temporary absence, Toshiro finally acknowledged his missing belongings, sending him into immediate panic mode.

He took good care not to break any of the stitching, but couldn't help wincing all the while as he got to his feet and began searching the semi-small clinic. He quickly found Hyourinmaru leaning against the wall, spurring a great relief in his chest; though, there was something, not _more_ important, but rather crucial yet to be found. So he left the sword where it lay and began searching for his clothes. His kimono he wasn't all that worried about, but his haori, well, that was a different story. And when he couldn't find it, he felt his panic build; if he wasn't already going to be scolded by Yamamoto for lacking in battle, he was surely going to glared at degradingly and cursed out of his level of supposed maturity for losing his captain's cloth.

'_This trip couldn't get any worse,_' he groused. And as if on fate's cue, he lost his footing, became twisted in the nearest curtain, and fell onto his back with a loud _thud_ - courtesy of his head meeting the hard linoleum floor.

"Dammit…" he cursed under his breath, attempting to free himself from the large cloths binds while nursing his aching skull at the same time.

"Tsk, tsk," Karin chided upon her return only a second later. "I leave you alone for five minutes…" she trailed off, but the rest of her sentence was no doubt belittling, and his features twisted further, deepening his scowl. Karin merely sighed in regard, placing a tray of food on his bed's dining table and throwing a bundle of clothing on the mattress, then proceeded to where Toshiro was struggling to get up.

He waved her off as she attempted to help him, "I can get up on my own."

Holding up her arms in a mock 'white flag' gesture, she took a step back, watching with both scorn and amusement as he got to his feet. "That pride of yours is gonna get you killed someday," she said, following him with caution as he stumbled back to his bed.

"So I've been told…" he rolled his eyes, wincing as he heaved himself onto the mattress once more.

"Here," she granted him with a light-blue cloth, "I brought you one of Ichi-nii's t-shirts."

Toshiro eyed the shirt briefly, then with a faint air of awkwardness, slipped it on over his head. While in turn, Karin pulled a pair of sweatpants on under her uniform and hopped on the bed, assuming a cross-legged position opposite him. And once she minded his appearance, she barely stifled a laugh.

"Maybe I should've brought you one of my shirts," she pondered aloud, cocking her head to the side. "You look about my size."

Grumbling an inaudible retort, of what she had no doubt was a curse, Toshiro took the main dish from the tray and began to eat; food of which really was 'to die for', he noted happily. Meanwhile, it appeared Karin had taken it upon herself to sew the abundant rips on his kimono.

"You don't have to do that," he was quick to oppose.

"I can't very well send you home with ripped clothing," she muttered, sticking her tongue out in a concentrated manner. And despite his common manner of refusing help, Toshiro yielded, merely continuing to eat while unwittingly watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh," Karin piped up a minute later, tossing an article of white and sea-green cloth at him, "I believe that's yours too." The 'thank god' glow of his features as he grasped the cloth had her smirking. "Expensive?" she assumed, quirking her brow at him.

"Not exactly…" he muttered as he folded his haori and placed it on the bedside table. "It's just, important."

"Then you're lucky you didn't get blood on it," she said, resuming her sewing. "It might've been stained for good- ow!" Cursing under her breath, she began sucking on her thumb, of which she pricked with the needle deep enough to draw blood.

Toshiro couldn't help but sigh. "You're not even doing it right," he stated offhandedly, swiftly taking the cloth and needle from her grasp.

Huffing quietly, Karin rested her elbows on her knees, propping her chin on curled knuckles. And as she observed him, she found herself mildly surprised at how expertly he went about it.

"You know how to sew too," she noted blandly.

"It's not that hard to pick up on," he reasoned simply, then cast her a glance. "Well, for most people, anyway."

Karin scowled. "Whatever…" she mumbled indignantly. Yet, in spite of herself and his arrogance, she couldn't help but stare at him; she found his features rather admirable. As well as _young_, despite his deep voice and obvious superior-like attitude, which struck a notion in her ever-inquiring mind. "Shouldn't you call someone?" she voiced such a notion. "I mean, I'm sure a kid like you has people worried-'

"I'm not a_ kid_."

"So you keep saying," she remained skeptical, heightening his annoyance. "Come on Shorty, you've gotta have a mother or something, right?" She'd had him glaring at the term 'Shorty', and he was about to deny her assumption, as well as scold her on the fact that he was plenty old enough to take care of himself, but the precedent was hitched at the sudden reminder of a certain strawberry-blonde woman. Who, not that he'd ever admit it out loud, was the closest thing to a 'mother' he had; prompting him to search his pockets.

"Looking for this?" Karin presented him with his cellphone. "It fell out of your pocket on the way here."

Merely nodding, he flipped it open. And sure enough, there was a missed call from his lieutenant. "I'll be right back," he muttered, making his way out of the clinic and out into the cool night air as he dialed Rangiku's number.

"_Taicho!"_ she greeted instantly.

"Matsumoto-'

"_What happened?!"_ she cut him off frantically. "_Are you okay?! Do you need assistance?!-'_

"Matsumoto!" That silenced her. "I'm fine," he said firmly. "And I don't need assistance. I was simply returning your call to say that I'll be back tomorrow so you wouldn't," he paused to make sure his voice didn't sound too heartfelt. "So you wouldn't worry about me."

"_Oh Taicho~!"_ But of course, Rangiku would perceive his sincerity as it was anyway. "_I always worry about you~!"_ He merely sighed, bringing his thumb and forefinger to rub his eyes as he listened to her sing-song sentiments. And eventually, she calmed down, "_so you're really okay?"_

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine," he exaggerated for good measure. "Now, I have to go." Then, with an all authoritative tone, added: "And I expect your paperwork to be complete when I return."

"_Wha! But Taicho~"_ He promptly hung up on her whining, heaving one last sigh before retreating to his bed. Of which Karin still sat, picking at his neglected bread roll.

"Everything good at home?" she questioned, quirking a brow at him as he took his place on the bed once again.

"Yeah," he nodded, running a hand through his messy hair. "Annoying as always."

She chuckled lightly. "I know the feeling."

He simply smirked, quite able to imagine how the life as Isshin's daughter would go; loud and never dull, that's for sure. And after a short, and rather comfortable, lapse of silence, she made to voice her long since thought up inquiry - "By the way-'

"Karin~!" Isshin sing-songed from the entryway to the clinic. "It's late and you have to get your beauty rest for school! Come on now!"

"Okay!" she called back grudgingly, sliding off the bed.

"What were you going to say?" Toshiro pressed, faintly curious.

"Er.." she scratched her head briefly, "nothing." Proceeding to the door, she cast him one last grin, resolving to ask him later. "Rest easy."

.

.

.

The next morning, Karin entered the clinic just as Toshiro was strapping his zanpakuto to his back, already dressed in his shihakusho and haori.

"Leaving already?" she frowned, hands reflexively going to her pockets.

"I have to," he replied simply, adjusting his star clip.

"Will I be seeing you again?" she pressed, keeping herself aloof as she approached him.

"I think there's a good chance." He cast her a faint, yet genuine smile. "You saved my life, after all. I owe you one."

She beamed. "I'll hold you it."

"I'm sure you will," he muttered subtly, proceeding to the exit. "Thanks for your hospitality-'

"Er, wait!" Karin piped up rapidly, causing him to linger in the doorway. "Um," she nearly fumbled at his expectant gaze, "I didn't get your name."

His mouth twitched in slight amusement. "It's Cap-" For reasons lost on him, he paused, suddenly deciding against his usual formality. "Toshiro Hitsugaya."

Taking her grin of response with an inward one of his own, he resumed his departure. "See you later, Kurosaki."

And with an indiscernible twinge of emotion in her chest, she waved to his retreating figure. "See ya later, Toshiro."

* * *

Little did either know, they'd meet again only weeks later when he'd return with Rangiku, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Renji and Rukia to assist in the Arrancar attacks.

* * *

;so began their story of friendship, unwavering love, and constant heartbreak

* * *

**A/N: **And that's how they met! I mean, I love the filler-episodes of them as much as the next HitsuKarin fan, but I love writing different meetings for them more; so I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!


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